


Toys and Trees

by meiliariotz



Series: Bloody Candies [3]
Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Backstory, Blood, Blood and Gore, Canon Backstory, Christmas, Death, Disturbing Themes, Gore, Kissing, Multi, Snow, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, isaac mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28325052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meiliariotz/pseuds/meiliariotz
Summary: You wake up one morning to find the fairgrounds covered in snow. It’s seems that Christmas has come to the carnival.
Relationships: Laughing Jack/Reader
Series: Bloody Candies [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967443
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Toys and Trees

**Author's Note:**

> This fic involves canon plot points from The Origin Of Laughing Jack. Isaac is mentioned, but not named.

The weather at the carnival was always the same. A dreary overcast sky drifted above you every day since you arrived here. The thick, grey clouds seemed to always threaten a storm, but never delivered. 

It was always cold as well. Not cold enough to leave you shivering, but just enough to be uncomfortable. You tried to ignore it, but it could be maddening on some days, as if the chill was slowly seeping deep into your body. It felt like your bones were freezing

You assumed that Jack could probably control the conditions of his carnival, including the weather. He probably kept it this way as a subtle little mindgame, a way of slowly driving you mad through the sheer monotony of it. 

However, you were in for a surprise today. You woke up in the center of a circus tent, not quite remembering when you fell asleep here. That part was normal. You rarely kept track of your sleep schedule anymore. That was something you had long given up on. 

What wasn’t normal was the multitude of plush blankets that had been laid over you. Usually you were content to pass out on the dirt floor, not bothering to find anything to cover yourself with. In fact, the only time you ever slept in any kind of relative comfort was when Jack dragged you to the nest. 

As you blinked away the remnants of sleep you sat up and realized with a jolt why the blankets were there. It was freezing. You instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself and your teeth instantly started chattering. This was far from the carnival’s normal cold. 

Resisting the temptation to wrap the blankets around yourself again, you glanced around the tent and noticed some neatly folded clothes sitting next to you. There was a heavy winter jacket, a scarf, a hat, and gloves. 

You rushed to put the clothes on. They offered some relief from the cold, and you awkwardly jogged in place for a moment to warm your legs. The shivering began to subside. Now that you were warm, you could finally think clearly. What was going on? Why was it so cold?

Maybe this was some kind of new torture. You turned to the entrance of the tent, prepared for whatever was waiting for you outside. When you stepped out, you actually pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t still asleep. 

The whole landscape was blanketed in a thick layer of snow, with some light flurries still falling from the sky. The tents and carnival stalls were adorned with wreaths and holly, adding a pleasing pop of color to the normally drab buildings. 

You stepped further out into the snow, relishing the crunch of it beneath your feet. For a few moments you could only stare, finding yourself wrapped up in a genuine, almost childlike sense of wonder. 

“I knew you would like it!”

Jack’s voice came from right behind you. With a startled gasp you rushed to face him, only to lose your footing and tumble ass first into the snow. Your fall was met with raucous laughter. 

You looked up at the clown, who seemed even taller from your current perspective. Once again you wondered if you were dreaming. Jack was still in his normal costume, but with the addition of a red and green Christmas scarf and a Santa hat. 

Seeing the clown who you had forced you to watch torture, murders, and countless other atrocities wearing anything associated with wholesome holiday fun was just plain strange. It was so strange in fact, that it inspired genuine amusement in you for the first time since you arrived at the carnival. You found yourself laughing along with Jack, just at the surreal nature of the whole situation.

With a bow, Jack offered you his hand, hoisting you up from the snow bank and twirling you gracefully to a standing position. His grin, which usually had a malicious undertone, looked more real than usual. It seemed as if he was truly proud of his work. 

“Our own personal winter wonderland,” he said, making a large, sweeping gesture to your general surroundings. 

“Isn’t it lovely?” He asked, looking at you eagerly. 

You almost never gave honest answers to questions like that. Usually you offered Jack your agreements and praise for the sake of preserving your own life. This was one of the rare moments where you found yourself being completely genuine. 

“It’s gorgeous,” you said. Jack’s grin grew even wider, still not showing even a hint of malice. 

“Well then,” he said, offering you his arm like a proper gentleman, “How about a tour?”

Said tour was more of a leisurely walk around the snow covered carnival. As suspicious as you were of Jack’s intentions, you couldn’t help but indulge in the innocent whimsy that the winter landscape brought out in you. 

You weren’t sure how long you had been walking when you noticed there wasn’t a single guest in sight. The grey skinned, dead eyed residents that usually wandered the fairgrounds were nowhere to be seen. 

The guests always unnerved you, but somehow their absence was even more concerning. You decided not to think about it. Maybe they were all just crowded into the nearby tents. 

You pulled your scarf closer to your lips, breathing warmth into the cloth, and for a moment you wondered where these clothes had come from. You had the fleeting realization that someone most likely died for you to have them, same with Jack’s hat and scarf, but again, you pushed those thoughts out of your mind. 

This was actually going surprisingly well. All was calm and quiet, the only noise being the crunch of snow beneath your feet. You weren’t sure how long you were walking before you reached a clearing in the fairgrounds. There, in the center of the clearing was the essential piece of any Christmas.

“Oh wow,” you said, awestruck. 

The tree was taller than any of the nearby tents and was growing straight out of the ground, as if it had been there the whole time. You wondered how you didn’t notice it before now. It was adorned in glistening ornaments and silver tinsel, and the whole spectacle was topped off with a soft brushing of snow. Rich green pine needles peaked out from beneath white, like something straight out of a holiday card. It was undeniably gorgeous. 

You were about to say just how beautiful it was, but the words caught in your throat when you saw Jack’s expression. His smile was gone, replaced with a look of concern. 

“Is something wrong?” You asked with some hesitation.

Jack blinked, as if he had been startled from somewhere deep in thought. His smile returned, still looking just as genuine as before. 

“Oh, it’s nothing important, dear. It just seems that in my rush to greet you this morning, I forgot to add some finishing touches to the tree,” he explained.

You took another look at the tree. It didn’t seem like there was much else to be added. As you looked closer you saw that there were no garlands, and no star, but so what? Those were minor details when compared to the rest of the display. 

Jack didn’t seem to care. Whatever misstep he had made in decorating the tree was clearly worrying him, and before you could say a word he had taken you by the arm again. He gently, but firmly ushered you away from the tree and towards a nearby tent. 

“This won’t do, this simply won’t do at all,” he muttered as he pushed you into the tent with an apologetic look.

“I’m so sorry to leave you alone, but would you wait here for a few moments while I fix this little issue?” He asked.

“Um, would you like help?” You asked.

“Oh no! No, love, it simply must be a surprise! You shouldn’t have to lift a finger,” he said. He cupped your face in his hands and looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to respond. 

“Oh, alright,” you said, figuring it was best to go along with his strange whims. You didn’t want to ruin this rare moment of calm, and dare you say, happiness. 

“I knew you would understand! I’ll be back soon, I promise!” Jack said, his smile growing wider. He turned and rushed out of the tent, leaving you alone.

You touched your cheek where his hand had just been. Your smile faltered a little as you realized you missed that rare display of gentle touch. You wished it had lasted a bit longer. 

You paced back and forth in the tent. It was best to keep moving. While the warm clothes were nice, they didn’t keep out the chill completely. You glanced about your surroundings, and your pacing came to a stop when you noticed something in the back of the tent.

Most of the tents in the fairground were desolate and empty, but this one housed something covered in a white sheet. 

You shuddered as you approached it, fearing what might lurk beneath. At the same time, the weight of not knowing was driving you crazy. With a deep breath, you pulled the cloth off and paused. 

You had prepared yourself for the worst, something like coffins, organs, or full on dead bodies. However what you were now looking at seemed relatively normal.

The structure was an intricate armchair, and in its seat sat a small box. Still maintaining caution, you picked the box up. A crank stuck out from one side, and dust was caked to the handle. The paint was chipped and dull, but you could tell that it once bore vibrant colors. It appeared that something had once been engraved in the lid, but it was worn down and almost illegible. You squinted, trying to make out what it once said.

You managed to work out a few letters, including an especially intricate letter L, and a few complete words, but the rest was chipped to oblivion. You spoke to yourself in sentence fragments, trying to piece it together.

“La… la, something, something… in… a box?” You muttered, your head starting to hurt from how hard you were concentrating. 

Finally you decided to try the handle. A nearly unintelligible rendition of Pop Goes The Weasel emanated from the toy. It was obviously very old, as the music sounded more like a poor, tortured animal than a recognizable tune. 

When the song ended, nothing happened. You lifted the lid of the box yourself only to find nothing inside. How strange. You didn’t have time to dwell on it though. A familiar raspy voice rang out from behind you.

“Laughing Jack in a box,” he said. Jack had crept into the tent so silently. He was practically right behind you, and you nearly dropped the box in fright.

“What?” You asked.

“The words that you were trying to read. It’s ‘Laughing Jack in a box,” he explained. 

“How long have you been standing here?” You asked.

“Long enough.”

With a low growl he took the box from your hands. His gaze shifted from the toy to you several times. You tried to decipher his expression, which was an odd mix of rage and what you could only describe as sadness. 

“You shouldn’t have touched this,” he said with an angry growl in his voice. His clawed hands gripped the box tightly. For a moment, you were sure he was going to crush it into splinters. Instead, he sighed, moving towards the armchair and setting the box down before turning to face you.

“I’m sorry-“ you started, only to be cut off.

“Don’t be sorry, love,” his gentle tone had returned in full effect, now with a somewhat parental energy, “You didn’t know any better. In fact, I would find your curiosity quite charming in any other case.” 

“What is all this?” You asked.

“Things from my past, my dear. This box was my home for thirteen long years. I belonged to a boy who became a monster. I was his Christmas present,” Jack said, punctuating his explanation with a harsh laugh.

“I watched him from within here,” he said, tracing a claw along the edges of the box, “He taught me everything I know. He was such a creatively violent boy. Of course, he had forgotten about me by the time his creativity really began to shine, but I never forgot about him. We were the best of friends.”

You were silent, unsure of how to respond to the clown opening up to you like this. The things he was saying were awful, but he almost seemed vulnerable. 

That vulnerability didn’t last long. Jack turned to you, flashing a familiar, wicked grin for a moment. You shuddered at the sight of his sharp teeth, and that’s when you realized what the armchair was made of. 

You took several steps back in horror, realizing that the leather had a distinct flesh tone, unlike any you had ever seen before. Several bones made up the legs and arms of the chair, all recognizable as belonging to a human body.

That was once a person. That sick work of grotesque furniture was once a living, breathing human, and now that human’s body sat, twisted into a shape it was never meant to be in. Now it was here, in this godforsaken carnival, doomed to remain here for all eternity. 

“Admiring the upholstery? I don’t blame you. Like I said, he was quite creative.” Jack said, running a hand along the flesh chair in appreciation. 

“ _He_ made this? I thought you…” you trailed off, the gravity of the situation coming down on you. Jack said he had _learned_ from that boy. A human made that chair. A fellow human was able to commit such a heinous act of evil. It made your stomach turn and your eyes well up.

Jack approached you, once again taking your face in his hands. You reluctantly looked up at him. His wicked smile had disappeared once again, replaced with the genuine one he had been wearing previously. It brought you a small bit of comfort. 

“Now, love, there will be none of that. No tears or sadness on Christmas,” he took you by the hand and led you out of the tent, “Come now, I’ve made the tree just perfect.”

As you stepped out into the carnival, the first thing you noticed was the sky. Despite how little time you spent in the tent, it was now dark out. A full moon illuminated the snow covered land, making it sparkle as if quartz coated the ground. You didn’t admire the landscape for long. The tree drew your attention soon enough.

Now you knew why there were now guests around. 

Below the tree the snow had been stained crimson. Pale bodies were piled up beneath. Some even had little bows tied around them, like presents. 

Your gaze traveled higher and you noticed the garland of viscera that wrapped around the tree, slick and glistening red in the glow of the multicolored lights. In fact, several parts of the tree were now shimmering with fresh blood. 

“I know it’s not the most traditional tree, but you should by now that I like to add my own spin on things,” Jack said, sounding very proud of himself. 

He leaned down to your level and pointed at the highest branches of the tree. 

“I actually used some of the skills I learned from my years in captivity to construct that little masterpiece up there! The crown jewel of any Christmas tree!”

You looked up and saw what he was talking about. A white star now sat atop the tree. At a glance it seemed like the most normal thing about the whole gorey structure. However upon closer inspection, you could see the star was made of bone, all bleached and sharpened. The pieces were bound together in the center, with the sharpened points perfectly positioned to resemble a star. 

“Speechless?” Jack asked when you didn’t respond. He was right, you were speechless. What was there to say? How were you supposed to respond to this?

“Or perhaps you’re disappointed that I didn’t get you any gifts,” he clicked his tongue and looked deep in thought for a moment. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers, as if the most genius idea had Judy occurred to him. 

“I know! How about a good old fashion Christmas dance. Will that make it up to you?” He asked. 

Before you could respond you heard the music began. You weren’t sure where it was coming from, but it sounded like it was emanating from an ancient gramophone. 

It was a familiar Christmas tune, though you couldn’t quite name it. Perhaps it was because the sound quality was terrible, making the normally cheerful and nostalgia inducing song sound eerie. Or maybe it was just your faulty memory rearing its head again. 

Still, despite all this, despite the human skin chair, and the gore filled tree, and the star made of bone, you knew better than to refuse.

“I would love a dance, Jack,” you said, taking care to keep your voice from shaking. Without hesitation, he took your hand in his, swinging you into his arms. For a feral, supernatural clown, he really knew how to dance, falling into form naturally as the two of you swayed to the distorted carol. 

“It is so very nice to have someone here to celebrate with me. This holiday can be so difficult, given my history,” Jack said, gripping you closer to his body. The song seemed to skip a beat. 

“So you were once a Jack in the box? You were really stuck in there for that long?” You asked. You never thought you would find yourself feeling sympathy for Jack, and yet here you were.

“Yes. I was that boy’s possession. I was his _toy,_ and he broke me,” spat out the word ‘toy’ like it was a strip of rotten meat. He laughed, but it sounded grim, almost painful. You felt the rattle of it as you were pressed so close to the clown's chest.

“But not anymore. Now, I have a toy of my own,” Jack said darkly. 

Before you could register what he had said, he spun and dipped you, holding you aloft as he loomed over you. You saw his grin, now bereft of any of the gentleness from before. He looked at you like a wolf would look at a wounded deer before closing the gap between you. 

The kiss probably only lasted a few moments. Then again, time is weird in the carnival, doubly so when you’ve just locked lips with your captor. 

When it finally ended he lifted you to stand upright again. You tried hard to ignore the tiny part of you that was disappointed, the part of you that wanted it to last longer. In fact you were so focused on trying to smother that part of yourself that you barely noticed Jack taking your chin in his hand, tilting your head up to meet his gaze for a few tense moments before finally speaking. 

“I just hope you know, love, that I plan on breaking you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas readers!


End file.
